Macaulay Culkin's Dream

I'm riding on the bus, but the bus driver is an ambulance driver. He is my dad. He's scared of something in the back of the bus, and I'm back there. "Macaulay! Get up here," he yells as he cranks on the steering wheel. I walk towards him, hands on the upper railings. We're going fast enough to blur everything touching the windows. "Macaulay, it's coming! Hurry," and the dad driver swerves to miss something enormous and gray with a blaring siren. I know there are other people on the bus but I can't see them. "Oh no. It's close," he whispers. "Dad, I'm right here," and I put my hand on his shoulder. "Aah!"

Now I'm standing on the roof of an apartment complex in the monochrome city. The sky is on fire, but it is friendly fire. I know it only wants to help. I hear my phone ringing, but I can't find it because it's in the past. I'm getting angrier by the moment, digging in the rocks layering the roof, and the ringing is growing louder. I tunnel my way into the ceiling of the top floor. A beautiful woman in a bathrobe answers her cell phone. "Yes, this is Mr. Culkin," she says. I fall through the hole and snatch the phone from her hand. She is shocked and beautiful. "Give me that, you fat liar," I snap, and hold the phone in front of my face. "Hello?"

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